


You and Fall

by Shklance_Beef_Sandwich



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, I don't know what else to tag but they're in love and things are going good, M/M, Sexual Content, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26494483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shklance_Beef_Sandwich/pseuds/Shklance_Beef_Sandwich
Summary: Andrew had grown sick of the colour orange.He has to deal with it enough being at a college that’s entire premise seems to rely on the retina-burning hue, his only apparent escape from it being when he’s able to get away to Columbia on the weekends.But now it’s fall, and the leaves are turning all kinds of shades of orange, none quite as ghastly and bright as back at Palmetto State, but orange nonetheless.The only instance in which Andrew isn’t sick of orange, not that he’d admit it to anyone, is when it comes to Neil.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166
Collections: AFTG Exchange Fall 2020





	You and Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kanekicure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekicure/gifts).



> Here's my gift as a part of the AFTG fall exchange for Kanekicure, I hope you like it!
> 
> As always, titles are not my forte

Andrew had grown sick of the colour orange.

He has to deal with it enough being at a college that’s entire premise seems to rely on the retina-burning hue, his only apparent escape from it being when he’s able to get away to Columbia on the weekends.

But now it’s fall, and the leaves are turning all kinds of shades of orange, none quite as ghastly and bright as back at Palmetto State, but orange nonetheless.

The only instance in which Andrew isn’t sick of orange, not that he’d admit it to anyone, is when it comes to Neil.

His auburn hair turns into the colour of the walls back at the Foxhole Court when he’s in the sun, and his ridiculous sense of style somehow got worse when he discovered the Foxes paraphernalia; now almost always adorning a shirt or sweatshirt, even socks, that are almost always orange and emblazoned with fox paw prints in some form on them.

Andrew claims he hates the clothes so much that it’s a good enough reason to get Neil out of them once they’re alone behind a closed door.

Neil argues Andrew says the same thing about the outfits he picks out himself for Neil to wear to Eden’s.

Andrew tells him to shut up with a kiss and a mumbled “yes or no” against his lips.

So Andrew has hated orange since he arrived at Palmetto State and was forced to integrate the shade into his everyday life, but he’s slowly learning to tolerate, and dare he even go as far as to say like, orange in certain circumstances.

He doesn’t mind the colour all too much right now with the scene in front of him; Neil curled up on the window seat looking out into the yard at the house in Columbia, the autumn leaves a calming backdrop beyond the glass, and Neil smiling softly to himself, leant against the windows’ frame nursing a steaming mug of coffee.

Andrew watches this from his place at the end of one of the couches, paused halfway through a line in the paperback he’d been somewhat reading before Neil came in and handed Andrew a cup of his own, kissed his temple and went to take a seat on the cushions by the window.

That was a good ten minutes ago, and Andrew’s been seriously considering putting his book aside altogether, since.

“Entertain me.” Andrew decides, absently bookmarking the page he was on and placing the book and half empty coffee mug on the table. Neil glances at him, his own mug half raised toward his mouth in an aborted motion.

“What?” He asks, and Andrew just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“I said entertain me.” He repeats, and Neil glances around the room, as if waiting for someone else to enter it, but no one will. Andrew had woken up to a note stuck to the fridge that let him know in Nicky’s unruly scrawl that him and Kevin had taken a cab to head back early. He hadn’t bothered explaining the reasons beyond Kevin wanting to study back at the dorms, because he knew Andrew wouldn’t care. “They’re not here.” Andrew belatedly addresses Neil’s pointed looking toward the entryway. “Not that it matters.” He finishes.

“I wasn’t sure if that was referring to a ‘yes or no’ kind of entertainment, or regular song and dance,” Neil finally says, tipping his mug back to drain the last of his coffee before standing, placing his cup on the table beside Andrew’s, and lifting a knee to rest on the couch cushion. “Which is it?”

“Either is fine.” Andrew says, watching Neil’s approach, letting his legs fall open in a not-so-subtle invitation as Neil shifts closer, and he chooses to settle between them, chest to Andrew’s stomach and arms encircling the gap between the couch and Andrew’s lower back, looking up at him and watching for any negative reaction. When Andrew gives none, Neil tilts his head down to kiss the centre of Andrew’s chest over his shirt, and Andrew lifts a hand to stroke his fingers through Neil’s hair.

“Any song requests?” Neil asks, and Andrew feels the words before he hears them as Neil’s mouth moves over him, and Andrew hums.

“Whatever you want.” Andrew registers Neil smiling before he turns his head, cheek resting against Andrew’s chest now as he starts humming softly, then singing quietly. Andrew lets him, trying to figure out the song he’s singing, eyes slipping closed, then popping open again when Neil gets to the chorus, the next line tapering off into laughter as Andrew shoves at his shoulder partway through.

“Hey,” Neil says, affronted but still laughing somewhat, pushing himself up to look down at Andrew. “You said whatever I wanted.”

“Fox on the run? Seriously?” Andrew asks, and Neil shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s fitting.” Neil says in lieu of an answer. “It’s a good song.”

“Not anymore, and it’s mediocre at best.” Andrew retorts, which just makes Neil smile at him in the way Andrew hates because it’s so loving and shouldn’t be a smile that’s directed towards him.

He doesn’t tell Neil to stop looking at him that way anymore, though.

“Yes or no?” Andrew says to break the silence, and Neil nods, murmuring a yes as he leans down to meet Andrew halfway for a kiss.

Using his legs wrapped around Neil’s waist, Andrew pulls him closer, and Neil drops from his hands to his forearms, their noses bumping and teeth clicking enough to jar before Neil pulls away to huff a laugh.

“Could’a warned me, ‘Drew.” He mumbles, but Andrew just kisses him instead of awarding him with a proper answer, and Neil hums into it, opening his mouth when Andrew’s tongue swiping along his lip coaxes him to do so.

They stay that way for a long while, Andrew steadily sinking further back into the cushions of the couch and drawing Neil closer still all the while, eliciting sounds from deep within Neil’s throat that he swallows, his fingers inching their way beneath Neil’s hoodie, tracing idly along scars and earning a shiver.

“Can I touch you?” Neil pulls back enough to ask, and Andrew doesn’t want to admit that he almost chases after Neil’s mouth, instead staring at him for a beat before nodding.

“Yes.” Andrew is quick to add: “Wherever you want,” before Neil can ask, expecting him to want to copy Andrew and reach beneath his sweatshirt. Andrew braces himself for it, but Neil reaches for his face, instead, the back of his neck, and Neil kisses him once more, slow and heady in a way that never fails to take Andrew’s breath away.

Those gentle fingers trail from Andrew’s jawline down to his collarbone, tucking just beneath the neckband of his shirt to trace along it, Neil’s head tilting to allow his lips to follow the same path, pressing a firm kiss to the underside of Andrew’s jaw, and Andrew grips at Neil’s biceps, grounding himself and exhaling heavily, letting himself relax beneath Neil’s touch.

Andrew never had to outwardly confess that he’s weak for Neil’s lips on his skin for Neil to figure it out and use that tidbit to his advantage, Andrew feeling him smile even now, making a low sound against him and switching to kiss the other side of his neck, making him tip his head back into the cushions with an involuntary groan.

“Your neck fetish still isn’t attractive,” Andrew tries, but it comes out more breath than word, and Neil laughs into the crook of his neck, the rush of heat from it making Andrew shiver and hold onto Neil tighter.

“I love the way you react to it, though,” Neil whispers into Andrew’s ear, and it’s then that his hips roll pointedly downwards, somehow still gentle in the motion, and Andrew becomes acutely aware of the _reaction_ Neil was referring to.

“Betrayed by anatomy,” Andrew mutters, earning another laugh, and Andrew has to bite his lip in a near-futile attempt to stop himself from making a sound at the sensation; his neck overtly sensitive to Neil’s attention.

“Maybe it’s telling you something?” Neil muses, lifting his head enough to meet Andrew’s eye, and Andrew just stares coolly back, not thinking about the fact that his cheeks are more than likely flushed pink and his eyes more black than hazel, if Neil’s face is any indicator. “Want to move this to a bed or can I go down on you here?” Neil belatedly continues after taking his fill of staring at Andrew, and Andrew isn’t proud of the way his mouth drops open seemingly of its own accord at that, making Neil smirk and stroke a hand down Andrew’s front over his shirt. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Andrew watches Neil’s hand as his fingers curl into the waistband of his pants, then Neil shifts, moving back until he’s lying with his stomach between Andrew’s knees on the couch, pushing Andrew’s shirt up enough for Neil to press an open-mouthed kiss against his hip. As Neil’s eyes slip closed, Andrew is unable to do anything but watch, completely at Neil’s mercy and fine with the thought of being so, reaching down to brush his fingers through Neil’s hair and making his eyes flutter open again to look up at Andrew, smiling against him.

Andrew can only take in the sight for so long after Neil tugs the waistband of both Andrew’s pants and boxers down at the same time to get his mouth on him, having to tilt his head back into the couch and stare at the ceiling, brow furrowed and mouth parted with the feeling of it; the almost too much but not enough sensation of Neil’s fingers around the base and his tongue at the head.

Neil makes a sound as if giving Andrew pleasure is his favourite thing; both parts enthusiastic and careful in the way he handles him, attentive of his responses and changing tactics accordingly, intent on wringing out as much enjoyment from Andrew as humanly possible.

It’s a struggle to hold back the noises threatening to make their presence known, and Andrew takes to putting a hand over his own mouth, but Neil seems to notice, reaching up to tug a little at Andrew’s elbow, making him look back down, dropping his hand to join the other on Neil, cupping his jaw as Neil pulls back, panting shallowly and licking his lips.

“Don’t hold back,” Neil says, voice hoarser than it was before, and Andrew swears low, sitting up and pulling Neil up with him to kiss him near-fierce, licking into his mouth and tasting himself on Neil’s tongue. “Ah— _drew,_ ” Neil manages, wrapping his arms around Andrew’s shoulders and reciprocating the kiss as best he can, his hand snaking its way between them, taking ahold of Andrew anew and resulting in a bitten lip.

Andrew pulls back enough to look Neil in the eye, asking permission with his fingers slipping just beneath the waistband at Neil’s hip, and Neil nods, lifting up enough for Andrew to get his pants down, a slightly awkward manoeuvre with him half on Neil’s lap, but then his hand is mirroring Neil’s and it earns Andrew a moan that has heat flaring behind his navel.

“Fuck,” Andrew grunts when Neil grips a tad harder on the upstroke, rocking into his fist and lifting his head from where he’d tilted it down to glance between them and instead looks to Neil’s face, only to find he’s already gazing back at Andrew.

“Good?” Neil asks, as if Andrew hard and dripping in Neil’s hand wasn’t answer enough, but Andrew can’t bring himself to speak; to tell Neil to not ask stupid questions, instead just nodding and pressing forward to kiss Neil once more.

From there Andrew lets Neil kiss wherever he can reach, staring dazedly toward the window, at the coloured leaves on the swaying branches of the trees in the yard, panting shallowly and holding Neil close, tugging at his hoodie until Neil pulls back enough to pull it off. It puts his scarred skin on display, but Neil has long since grown out of self-consciousness around Andrew, and Andrew’s proud enough of him for it to take his shirt off, in turn, and Neil’s eyes trace over him appreciatively.

“C’mere,” Andrew murmurs, gripping Neil’s chin and tilting his head the way he wants, pressing his lips to Neil’s and closing his eyes.

Smoothing a hand down Neil’s side, Andrew shifts forward, pushing Neil until he’s lying back and straddling his thighs, ignoring the way his pants are stretched to their limit and instead keeping their faces close, hesitating just a second before bringing his front flush to Neil’s.

With his eyes heavy-lidded, piercing blue taken over by black and shadowed by lashes that flutter when Andrew settles atop him, Neil slowly brings his hands up to rest on Andrew’s hips.

“You okay?” Neil asks, when Andrew stays still for a long moment, and he manages a nod, nose almost bumping Neil’s they’re so close, his fingers quivering ever so slightly as he brings them up to cup the side of Neil’s neck, his jaw, and Neil lifts a hand to touch Andrew’s wrist, fingertips passing over pale scars, his head turning to kiss Andrew’s palm, blue eyes never leaving hazel, all the while.

Andrew’s grateful for the silent moment, taking a deep breath and pushing up to brace himself on a forearm, giving himself the leverage needed to move against Neil and remind the other of what they had been doing.

Neil grips Andrew’s wrist for another second before letting him go, and Andrew brushes Neil’s hair back from his face before balancing his weight on that arm, too, rocking his hips and revelling in the sight of Neil biting his lip and letting it go with a shaky moan.

“Good?” Andrew echoes Neil’s question from earlier, and Neil’s next breath hitches with a laugh, craning his neck to kiss Andrew, missing his mark and getting his chin, laughing again as he does so.

“Yeah, it’s good. Really good,” Neil says, touching Andrew’s shoulder, and Andrew takes pity on him, tilting his head enough for Neil to reach his mouth, kisses turning stilted as Andrew’s undulating motions make it difficult to keep their mouths connected. Neil appears to not mind, though, kissing Andrew when he can and voicing his pleasure in-between.

“I’m getting close,” Neil informs him after a while, and Andrew sits up, sacrificing kissing Neil for purchase as he places his hands on Neil’s chest and grinds his hips with more purpose.

They finish like that, and Andrew leans over to grab Neil’s discarded shirt, ignoring his protest as he wipes down Neil’s stomach, making him grumble slightly.

“I’ll wash it, quit whining.” Andrew says, and Neil gives a pout before letting it go, shuffling along on the couch with Andrew still on top of him until there’s room for Andrew to lie down.

Andrew pulls up his pants while Neil does the same, and they move around until they’re comfy.

Basking in the afterglow, with Neil lazing against his side, Andrew reaches blindly for the throw blanket that sits atop the couch and pulls it over them both, turning to face Neil a little better and carefully stroking his fingers through those messy auburn tresses.

Neil blinks tiredly, smiling in that soft way that would usually have Andrew looking in the other direction, but right now he basks in that smile, too, letting Neil close the distance between them to kiss him softly, feeling tentative fingers brush his cheek.

“That better be your clean hand.” Andrew mutters against Neil’s lips, and Neil snorts, tucking his face into the crook of Andrew’s neck.

Looking up toward the window at the sound of rain against the glass, feeling Neil snuggle against him and holding onto the back of Neil’s neck as his breathing evens out, Andrew lets his mouth quirk upward into a small smile.

Orange might not be Andrew’s favourite colour, but seeing it has him thinking of Neil, which makes it perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos are always appreciated and never fail to make me smile
> 
> Feel free to go check out what others have made for this exchange by visiting the aftg exchange [Tumblr,](https://aftgexchange.tumblr.com) there's a lot of great content over there
> 
> Kanekicure, if you've read this, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it  
> Your prompts were great and I wanted to do them justice
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](https://sheithbeefsandwich.tumblr.com)


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